


it's no secret that the both of us are running out of time

by dicksargents (BlondeTate)



Series: trc drabbles [4]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 22:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6303223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlondeTate/pseuds/dicksargents
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t plan to be anywhere but six feet under by April, the latest. This entire weekend is designed to make him remember that and the knowledge stings even if he wants to pretend it doesn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's no secret that the both of us are running out of time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bleulily (winterfells)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfells/gifts).



> for the prompt "will you marry me?" originally posted [here](http://wittchers.tumblr.com/post/141377323713/bluesey-will-you-marry-me-cough-sorry-not)

Gansey doesn’t allow himself to think about how much he hates these parties. If he did, he couldn’t keep his face straight or remain cordial to his mother’s guests - _Your guests too, Dick,_ her voice rings inside his head - and he couldn’t afford that. Not tonight; he heard the president is here and this is important to Mrs. Gansey. “Hate” is a very strong word, in any case.

And yet.

He keeps receiving the same innocent question from everyone, “Where are you planning to go to college?” It’s reasonable enough. What else would you ask a boy in his senior year of high school? His parents have had the same inquiry. He mentions Stanford to appease them. He mentions Harvard. He tells Helen, “Maybe I’ll travel.” He tells his parents, “I haven’t reached a decision yet. There are many factors to consider.” They tell him, “You’re running out of time, son.” 

And doesn’t Gansey know that all too well? He doesn’t plan to be anywhere but six feet under by April, the latest. This entire weekend is designed to make him remember that and the knowledge stings even if he wants to pretend it doesn’t. “Hate” doesn’t seem like such a strong word anymore.

He’s not going to dwell on it, he tells himself, and reaches for another glass of champagne as a waiter passes him by with a tray. He takes a sip and uses it as an excuse to pause and gather his confidence before answering the eagerly awaiting crowd gathered around him. His answer is always the same, more or less a repeat of what he told his parents two days ago. He tells them what they want to hear - that he hasn’t picked yet only because of the many possibilities, each better than the other. That he’s taking his time because he wants to be sure of his decision. “It’s not an easy choice,” he tells them with a smile and they nod knowingly,  “Any school would be glad to have you, Richard.”

They all hang onto his every word and the deep unsettling feeling lurking inside his chest goes unnoticed. An elderly lady in pastel pink pats his arm and goes on to discuss the pros and cons of Princeton when an arm snakes around his and immediately begins to tug him away.

“Sorry to interrupt, everyone,” Blue says and Gansey’s surprised to see the charming smile she turns towards the same people she animatedly parodied only a few hours earlier. It would convince him of its sincerity if he didn’t know her. “His mother sent me to find him. She wants to introduce him to someone.”

Gansey issues a short apology and says nothing to refute her lie. It has to be a lie - he finds it difficult to believe his mother would stop to ask anything of Blue. They slip away quietly to an empty corridor and Blue lets go of his arm, turning to face him.

He lets out a deep relieved sigh and closes his eyes, leaning against the wall. He hasn’t realized how much he needed to get away from them all until now.

“You’re the best, Blue, will you marry me?”

Her only answer is an amused laugh.

He opens his eyes and conveys his gratefulness through a loving smile. “Really,” he says, more serious now, “thank you.” _Thank you for helping me. Thank you for knowing I needed a break even when I didn’t._

She waves a hand. “Don’t mention it. You looked miserable.”

“Oh, I think I looked pretty convincing.”

Blue gives him a skeptical look and says, “To them, maybe. So what did they do? Did they try to convince you to join their baby-eating villainous republican cult?”

“If this cult also involved magical rituals, I might have been persuaded,” he jokes, putting his hands in his pockets. A strand of Blue’s short hair fell out of the bun Helen had made for her with great difficulties, and he itches to put it back in place just to touch her.

“Careful now. Initiations probably involve bathing in blood at midnight on a full moon.”

“That sounds more like a 300 Fox Way tradition,” he says and she gasps in mock outrage but his tone was lighthearted enough for her not to truly take offense.

Her mouth curves into a smile and she reaches out to fiddle with his tie, smoothing it gently. It’s red, like her dress and her deadly lips and all the thoughts in his head.

“Are you ready to go back?”

He raises his hand, covers hers with his own and keeps it there, right against his heart.

“Can we stay here for a bit more?”

Blue’s hand stills for a second but then curls around his with a gentle force, and she nods. “I’d like that.”

 


End file.
